


Blindfold

by glorious_spoon



Series: Teen Wolf Kink Bingo 2018 [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blindfolds, Established Relationship, F/M, Femdom, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 07:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15114926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glorious_spoon/pseuds/glorious_spoon
Summary: He hadn’t really thought he’d be into it. Had thought, in fact, that it was a waste of the absolutely incomparable view that was Lydia Martin naked and straddling him, but she wanted to try it and he hadn’t really been lying when he said that he’d let her do almost anything to him.





	Blindfold

“Don’t touch it,” Lydia murmured against his mouth. Her hands were on his shoulders, sliding up the sides of his neck, feather-light, and Stiles stopped plucking at the blindfold and let his hands drop onto her bare thighs, palms resting against smooth skin. She kissed him again, hard. “Good boy.”

“I’m kind of feeling like this whole scenario might have been slightly under-negotiated,” Stiles said, to cover the sudden rush of startled heat that went through him at that. His fingers curled against her skin. He could feel the flex of her muscles as she pulled back slightly.

“Do you want to stop?”

“Does it seem like I want to stop?”

He could feel her smile when she pressed her mouth to his. “I didn’t want to assume.”

“I’m pretty sure— oh, God.” There was a rustle as she pulled her shirt off, and then she was pressing close again, all soft warm curves and silky skin and deceptive strength. Stiles slid his hands up over her hips, over her belly, and grinned a little when she squirmed. He cupped her breasts, then leaned forward to kiss them, tonguing at her nipples through the scratchy lace of her bra until they tightened into hard knots, enjoying the shaky little noise that she breathed out against his hair. It was good to know he wasn’t the only one feeling a little overwhelmed here. “I’m pretty sure I’d be into literally anything you wanted to do to me right now.”

“Anything?” she asked archly.

“I’m an open-minded kind of guy.”

“So if I were to go get my strap-on harness and—” She broke off when Stiles groaned, digging his fingers into her hips harder than he’d meant to, then said, sounding pleased, “Oh. You actually are into that.”

Stiles dropped his head to her shoulder. He could feel his face heating, sweat beading along his hairline where it was trapped by the blindfold. It wasn’t quite embarrassment, but it wasn’t quite _not_ , either. He hadn’t really thought he’d be into the whole thing. Had thought, in fact, that it was a waste of the absolutely incomparable view that was Lydia Martin naked and straddling him, but she wanted to try it and he hadn’t really been lying when he said that he’d let her do almost anything to him. Blindfolds barely even counted as kinky.

He just. He hadn’t been expecting it to feel like this. Like every inch of his skin was awake and stinging, exposed, like every touch, no matter how small, was unexpected. Her fingers traced up the side of his jaw and his mouth fell open, gasping against her throat as her hands slid back into his hair, tangled in the short strands at the nape of his neck, and dragged him into a kiss.

 _Lydia_ was into this, anyway. She was usually bossy in bed, but this was. Something else.

“So, if I wanted to fuck you, you’d let me?” she said, pressing the words into his mouth, into the curve of his jaw. Stiles chased the memory of her lips, but without being able to see he caught the corner of her jaw, the edge of her mouth before she curved one hand under his chin and kissed him again, slow and thorough. Her other hand slid southward, cupping him through his boxers. “Hm?”

Stiles swore against her mouth, then made a completely embarrassing sound when she pushed her hand inside and started stroking him with slow, maddening, feather-light touches. “Lydia, _please._ ”

He could feel the curve of her cheek against his temple as she grinned. “Next time, maybe.”

“Next time, definitely, sure, could you just—” He reached around to unhook her bra, pushed the straps down her arms, then slid his hand lower. Her panties were soaked through, and she made a low, pleased noise when he found her clit, rubbing in tiny circles through the damp silk. “Please, can we just—”

“If I’d known this was all it took to reduce you to begging, I’d have tried it ages ago,” Lydia said, but she sounded breathless and delighted rather than mocking. Her hand cupped his cheek, fingers tracing the edge of the blindfold. “It’s a good look for you, by the way.”

Before he could even think of a way to answer that, she twisted away, leaning to open the bedside table without climbing off of him. Stiles steadied her with a hand on her waist, heard the tear of a wrapper, and then her soft fingers were rolling the condom down on him.

She didn’t even bother to take her panties off, just shoved them aside and slid down onto his cock with a low moan.

Stiles thrust up helplessly, but he didn’t even try to control the pace; he had a lousy sense of rhythm and Lydia, obviously, had a plan. Sure enough, she pushed him lightly back against the bed, an instant of dizzying freefall before his back hit the mattress and she was straddling him, rocking against him with a rhythm slow enough to be maddening. Stiles slid his hands over her thighs, up over her hips, belly, breasts, learning the shape of her with his fingers. She was making the soft, broken noises that meant she was close, and when he pushed aside her panties to press the pad of his thumb against her clit she cried out, shuddering around him as she came.

Her nails scored his ribs, biting in sharp sparks of pain, and then she fell against him, curved a hand over the back of his neck and yanked him into a fierce, biting kiss, and it was that, out of everything, that pushed him over the edge an instant later.

“Um,” Stiles managed eventually, when he’d managed to catch his breath. “So that was, uh.”

Lydia giggled and rolled off of him, landing with a soft thump on the mattress. “Yeah.”

He fingered the edge of his blindfold. “So, can I take this off now?”

“You’re asking permission?”

“I mean,” Stiles said, and swallowed. Heat flaring in his face, because yeah, he kind of had been. “This is kind of your show.”

“I guess it is, isn’t it?” Lydia said. Her tone was pleased and promising, and when she leaned over to kiss his mouth, there was a proprietary edge to it that he hadn't been expecting. Her fingers stroked his face, then slid around to the back of his head to carefully undo the knot. The blindfold slid free, and Stiles blinked up at her.

She looked flushed and smug, a fine sheen of sweat on her skin, her hair disheveled. Stiles reached up to touch her face, grinned helplessly. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Lydia said, smiling back, and leaned down to kiss him again.


End file.
